


Trust Me

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Blow Jobs, Denial of Feelings, Established Relationship, Feelings Realization, M/M, Trust Issues, post-shark date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24947839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: I received this ask a while back: I just saw that ‘trust me’ silver/flint gifset you reblogged, I feel like the first time they banged with the understanding that it meant something silver hesitates, cos vulnerability is not his fav but then like flint says that to him and it’s adorable and beautiful and they are so in love!! I don’t write fic but this just like popped into my head and I wanted to share with someone!And this fic was my response.
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver
Comments: 2
Kudos: 81





	Trust Me

It doesn’t make a single bit of difference, or so Silver tries to tell himself. He watches Flint move around the cabin, still getting used to the feeling settling between his shoulder-blades. It’s not simply lust because he’s known that he wanted Flint for a while now. For that matter, this isn’t even the first time they fucked.

The first time feels so long ago. Silver had murmured ‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ and Flint hadn’t answered him. Well, not with words. Instead he’d turned to Silver, cupping his neck almost roughly as he drew Silver in for a kiss. Silver had been startled into speechlessness and then Flint had simply led the way below deck and pressed him up against the wall.

“One word and I stop.” He had muttered and Silver had stayed silent because he desperately needed to know what Flint would do next.

What Flint did next was stick his hands down Silver’s breeches.

There had been other times, many other times, and it had all been good. The sort of fucking that makes Silver understand why people stay long after they shouldn’t, when the satisfaction afterwards is so rich that your bones are languid and your breathing soft and you’re still lying there, still touching, sweaty thighs and drying spend, because you can’t be bothered to move.

This feeling isn’t that. It’s uncomfortable but not exactly unpleasant. Silver’s just not sure what it is.

Flint turns to him. “What’re you waiting for?”

Silver goes over to the open window. The breeze is picking up even stronger and he leans out, feeling it on his cheek.

Flint moves closer behind him, brushing a hand along his hip. “Why’d you put your shirt back on?”

Silver hides a smile. “Because your eyes kept following me.”

Flint pauses. “That bothers you?”

“It does when I can hear you thinking ‘Too thin.’ Silver turns his head. “Usually that’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Oh?” Flint’s breath is soft as he leans in, sliding his hand along the front of Silver’s breeches. “And what am I usually thinking when I look at you?”

“How much you want to suck my cock.” Silver says lightly.

He sucks in a breath as Flint’s fingers, dexterous and careful as always, stroke gently down the rising curve through the rough material.

Flint barks a laugh into his shoulder. “That’s what I’m thinking?”

Silver shrugs lazily, but he still can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted, even he can’t quite see it. Yes, progress was made out there on the open water. His body feels more vital, more alive since they brought back the shark, but that wasn’t it.

Flint kisses his neck, stroking him through his breeches. As Silver turns to meet his mouth, he catches sight of Flint’s dagger. It’s lying there on the desk. He must have taken it off his belt since they came in the cabin. Silver hadn’t even noticed him doing it. And this is only mere hours after he hadn’t been certain he’d even make it back to the ship alive.

He trembles faintly, the realization that he’d failed to notice this, but also the fact that Flint deemed it safe to remove his dagger here with him. This is what is. This feeling between them. Because if he admits that he trusts Flint, that he has desired his trust for some time now, it means he has to admit the other thing as well.

Flint draws back, his hand slowing. “What is it?”

Silver shakes his head. “Nothing. Please don’t…”

Flint’s brow furrows. “It’s clearly not nothing. Usually all I have to do is touch you and you’re stiffer than a yardarm.”

Silver’s lips twitch in spite of himself. “It’s not that I don’t desire this, or you. In fact,” He hesitates, “Quite the opposite.”

Flint’s frown deepens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Simply that I do desire you.” Silver says hastily. “A little much at times for my own well-being.”

Flint takes half a step back. “Shouldn’t that be my line?” He retreats a few feet further, leaning back against the desk and regarding Silver coolly, arms crossed across his chest. “After all, I’m the one who just found out you’ve been lying to me all along.”

“And yet you’re here in this cabin with me.” Silver says, bemused. “Why is that?”

An expression flickers across Flint’s face, fleeting and gone, but enough to make Silver take a step towards him. “What is it?”

“I suppose,” Flint says heavily, “I desire you a little too much for my liking as well.”

Silver stares at him, and then starts laughing. How is this where they have ended? If Flint means a fraction of what he himself means by that statement, they are well and truly fucked.

“Well?” Flint says after a moment. “Is that incentive to keep going or cease altogether?” He sounds indifferent, removed from the situation, and yet Silver knows he is anything but. There is a tilt to Flint’s head, a set to his mouth, that belays any indifference altogether.

“We could a toss a coin for it.” Silver says innocently. He dips into his pocket and comes up with a penny. “Heads we stop. Tails we keep going.” He tosses it, a little clumsily and has to move forward to catch it.

Flint’s fingers close over his wrist, preventing him seeing what side ended up. Silver looks up at him quizzically.

“I believe it’s the latter.” Flint says softly and kisses him, sliding his hand up Silver’s wrist.

The penny falls to the floor, rolling away under the desk. Flint turns them, pressing Silver up against the desk. His mouth moves urgently upon Silver’s now, and for the first time Silver understands that this does truly mean something to him.

He goes still under Flint’s hands as Flint gets his breeches open. Flint presses another kiss to his silent mouth and sinks to his knees. His hands are on Silver’s thighs when he glances up and pauses.

Silver wets his lips, tries to think of a way to say this without sounding cowardly, but he is a coward here and part of him still wants to retreat again, to pretend that this thing between them doesn’t matter at all. That it is not cause to bring a smile to his lips at odd hours of the day, or that the sight of Flint lost in thought up on deck, or miles away in a book, isn’t enough to create a bright warmth in his chest.

Flint gazes at his face, his palms warm on Silver’s thighs and then he says, “Trust me?”

Silver gazes back at him and this is the moment, to lie as he always has, to say this doesn’t matter, to go back to the way things were, but he can’t do any of those things. He can’t.

“Yes.” His tongue whispers.

There’s a light in Flint’s eyes and he leans in to press a kiss to Silver’s knee before turning his attention to more pressing matters.

Silver’s head falls back in a mute groan as Flint does what he does best. He closes his eyes, and thinks, _this is just the beginning_. There is no telling where trust between the two of them will lead. Not when it’s bound up in love.


End file.
